


Babbling Brook

by Reiya_Wakayama



Series: Two Worlds Series [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Boys Kissing, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-10
Updated: 2013-06-10
Packaged: 2017-12-14 11:58:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/836626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reiya_Wakayama/pseuds/Reiya_Wakayama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Beltaine fires are being lit as couples all over the kingdom jump over the embers in hopes of a bountiful year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Babbling Brook

Prince Arthur of Camelot watched with a blank expression as the sun sank lower and lower towards the horizon, eyeing the couples steadily migrating out of the city and castle to head towards the edge of the forest.

Already the fires were being lit, bright among the shadows of the tree line. The festive atmosphere lay heavily over them, people singing songs of joy as they walked hand in hand with their chosen someone.

None noticed their golden prince among the shadows as they left. His mother and father had gone ahead of everyone and even planned to jump over the fires to bring a bountiful harvest to their kingdom. Even his stepsister Morgana was down there with her chosen, Sir Leon.

Sighing, he pushed off from where he leaned on one of the city’s many buildings, heading towards the forest, but opposite of where the festival was taking place. The sky was clear tonight, no clouds covering the many stars, and the moon shone bright at its fullest, turning all to silver.

Stepping under the shadows of the trees, he stopped and took a breath, taking in the night smells, listening to the forest come to life around him as the night creatures woke from their day slumber.

Following a well-used trail, he threaded his way through the trees, listening all around him. His feet guided him to a brook he knew well, stopping here often on his way out to hunt or on his way back from hunting. Now, with the full moon out, it shown silver in the light, creating patterns over everything as the fluid shifted in its clay bed.

A thin animal track ran alongside it, worn through the underbrush over the years by passage of the forest creatures seeking water to quench their thirst. He followed it easily, having walked it before. Feet silent, he continued his walk, mind blank as he tried not to think about anything.

He could hear splashing water ahead and he actually looked to where he was. He’d come further then he’d intended. The forest was unknown to him here, the trees large and closer together then those near the edge. Shrugging his shoulders, he continued on, wanting to see what was ahead.

Pushing aside a low hanging branch, he peered through the leaves…and then froze. A clearing opened up before him, a large shelf of rock protruding from the land on the other side of the clearing. A waterfall fell from its top, the source of the brook he had been following.

That wasn’t what held him though. It was _who_ stood in the water’s cascade that had made him stop. Tall, with long limbs, skin pale and shining white in the moonlight, was the man from Ostara. Except, there was no markings to mar his white skin.

He stood there silently, head tilted back as water struck and slid down his lean frame following each dip and slope of his body, flashing white in the moonlight. Arthur swallowed heavily, realizing he was staring at this ethereal man.

He went to take a step back to give him some privacy, but he hadn’t realized he’d been standing on the brooks edge, clay bed slick with water and algae. His foot slid out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground with a huge thump and curse from him.

He looked up to see the man had turned around, same stone knife from before held in his hand, naked as the day he was born and as fierce as a wolf. They stared at each other, eyes unblinking as time seemed to slow.

Then he blinked, head tilting as he got a curious look on his face, as if he was confused about Arthur. He took a cautious step forward and Arthur couldn’t help but notice that he was bare. He felt heat on his cheeks and looked back up. “Um…I shouldn’t have…sorry to disturb you…I’ll be going now.” He started to pick himself, not looking him in the eye.

He was acting like some virgin boy. Like he’d never seen someone, another male, naked before. He’d often swam naked with his knights, changed and undressed with them as they washed when they were on patrol. So why was he blushing like some girl?

_“Bidan.”_ He heard the man call out, even if he didn’t understand what he said. He stopped though, looking back. He was closer now, his long legs carrying him fast over to where Arthur stood in the trees. His steps were silent as he approached, gait smooth and graceful like a cat’s.

_“Hwy geþeon ðu æthleapan?”_ he said, voice lilting as he tilted his head in confusion again. It was then Arthur noticed his ears, which were kind of large, and stuck out slightly. His skin was still wet, ebony locks wet and cut short and uneven, stuck out at odd angles or clung to his skin, giving him a wild look.

“I…I don’t understand you,” Arthur replied.

The man’s face turned serious for a moment, and then he nodded. Clearing his throat, he frowned momentarily, as if concentrating very hard. “You not speak…old religion?” he asked in heavily accented English, voice slow and pronouncing each word with care as he fought to voice them.

Arthur shook his head. “No. You speak English?” he asked, surprised at this.

He nodded. “Little. Learned from priest,” he said. Smiling as he spoke the sentence. He shifted and a shaft of moonlight struck him, making his pale skin shine. Arthur could make out the outline of where the arrow had struck on Ostara.

“I’m sorry about what happened,” Arthur pointed at his shoulder, where the scar was still a little red, “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Not…mad. It fault not yours.” He frowned over the sentence, as if realizing he’d said something wrong. Arthur couldn’t help but laugh at his expression, throwing his head back to let loose the mirth bubbling in his chest.

The man glared at him as he finished an occasional chuckle escaping. “Why laugh?” he asked petulantly, arms crossed over his thin chest.

“I wasn’t laughing at you,” Arthur reassured him. He held out a hand, “My name is Arthur.”

The man took it, clasping his arm in a strong grip. “Merlin.” He grinned goofily at him. Merlin stopped smiling, but didn’t take his arm back. “Why run?” he asked, looking him in the eye, which Arthur just now noticing that he stood at his own height, if a little taller.

He felt his cheeks heat up again, the easy atmosphere dissipating as he took in the Merlin’s nude state. “I…um…,” Arthur swallowed heavily. “I didn’t want you to think I was…well spying on you or anything,” he said sheepishly, scratching at his head with his hand not held in Merlin’s grasp.

“Why think that?” Merlin asked, even more confused.

“Um…well…,” Arthur swallowed again. “Because you were bathing and um…,” he stopped himself there.

Merlin just watched him, taking in his flustered state and the blush riding high on his cheeks. “I not care. Others see me bathe.” He grinned, as if that fixed everything and to him, it was. He was a creature of nature, uncaring of modesty or privacy, free in his urges and instincts, ungoverned by rules of civilization.

Arthur took a breath and shrugged his embarrassment off. If Merlin didn’t care if he saw him naked, then he wouldn’t. He smiled back at him, showing that he understood what he meant.

Merlin glanced up, eyes shining silver in the moonlight. He sighed, looking back down at Arthur, “Must go. Needed.”

Arthur felt his shoulders sag as he too realized that if he didn’t get back soon, he would be missed. He’d been hoping to talk with Merlin longer. “I understand. I won’t keep you. I need to be getting back as well.” He let go of Merlin’s arm and took a step back, putting some space between them. “Maybe we’ll meet again?” Merlin nodded and seeing his chance, Arthur made to beat a hasty retreat.

“Arthur,” Merlin called, stilling his flight from the man’s presence. He turned back and froze as he realized that Merlin was just behind him, crowding into his personal space. Warm lips brushed softly against his one, twice and then his voice. “Beltaine luck,” Merlin whispered and then was gone, fading into the shadows of the forest.

Arthur stared after him, paralyzed by surprise and he felt his cheeks heat even more as he realized what exactly had just happened. Pulling himself together with some difficulty, he turned back around and made his way back to Camelot. The whole way there, a small smile graced his lips as he remembered what had happened.

~*~

_Bidan_ \- wait  
 _Hwy geþeon ðu æthleapan?_ \- Why did you run away?

**End.**


End file.
